The Retirement Thrival Guide

10 Self-Care Commandments that work

Sep 26, 2025

11 min

Sue Pimento

(Because “surviving” retirement is like saying you survived a salad bar—aim higher, my friend. Nobody hands out medals for dodging the croutons.)


Retirement isn’t about hunkering down as if you’re waiting out a storm, counting your Werther’s Originals like gold coins until the grandkids arrive. It’s about creating Act Two—the remix of your life—that’s lively, connected, and wildly fulfilling. Think less “retirement home” and more “retirement launchpad.” The good news? You don’t need to be at any specific stage to benefit. Whether your pre-retirement and plotting your escape from the 9-to-5, mid-retirement and still adjusting your sails, post-retirement and wondering “what now?”, or simply looking for inspiration to “accidentally” leave on your spouse’s pillow, this guide is your playbook.


So buckle up. Here are my "10 Commandments of Retirement Thrival"— think of them as your cheat codes for aging fabulously, with style, sass, and maybe even a standing ovation at the end of the show.



1. Thou Shalt Keep Moving


Motion is lotion, darling. I’ve said this before, and I’ll keep saying it until it’s tattooed on your sneakers: your body doesn’t rust—it negotiates early retirement if you stop using it. Movement isn’t optional; it’s oxygen for your joints, muscles, and mood. Don’t ignore this commandment or file it under “tomorrow’s problem.” Tomorrow never squats, stretches, or gets 10,000 steps—you do.

Start early and make it a routine. Walk, stretch, lift soup cans during commercials. If you feel daring, dance in the kitchen and startle the cat (extra points if the cat looks personally offended). The trick isn’t big gestures; it’s the small moves that add up to a second act full of energy instead of tired excuses.


Fact check: The World Health Organization reports that inactivity causes 2–5 million preventable deaths annually. Translation: move it, or lose it.


Maxim: Thou Shalt Keep Moving... lest ye creak louder than your old floorboards. And yes, jumping counts.  Take it from someone who teaches four to five Zumba, Body Pump, RPM, Flex, and Flow, and yes, Kick Boxing to people of all ages.  As a certified fitness instructor, I've seen the transformation that even the tiniest efforts can have.   



2. Thou Shalt Guard Thy Health


Hydrate, sleep, take your meds, and eat real food (and no, ketchup still doesn’t qualify as a vegetable, even if you put it on kale). Think of these as deposits into your “health account.” Skip too many deposits, and guess what? Your body’s cheques will bounce—hard.


Let’s get specific:


Water: Most of us aren't drinking enough of it.  In fact, a 2024 Canadian study by Liquid I.V. reported that 63 per cent of respondents reported feeling regularly dehydrated. Yet, 74 percent of respondents were aware of the recommended daily amount of water they should drink (6-8 glasses of water per day). Yes, coffee helps a little, but wine doesn’t count. Also, keep in mind that as cooler weather approaches, dehydration can often become less noticeable. However, through skiing, snowboarding, skating, or simply the regular course of daily activity, hydration must be monitored just as much in the winter as in the summer.  Hydration isn’t optional — it fuels your energy, digestion, and even cognitive sharpness.  Forgetting to drink water?  That's no excuse.  Just download an app for your phone.  The "Water Reminder" App is great and it's free! 


Sleep: Aim for 7–9 hours of sleep per night (CDC, 2024). Less than that doesn’t make you a hero; it makes you a cranky health risk. Chronic sleep deprivation is linked to heart disease, diabetes, obesity, and depression. Translation: bedtime is self-care, not surrender.


Meds: Here’s the reality—According to the WHO, about 50% of people don’t take their medications as prescribed. Missing doses isn’t “oops, I forgot”—it’s a slow-motion sabotage of your health. Non-adherence leads to unnecessary hospital stays, complications, and yes, premature exits from the party. The solution? Create a system: use pill organizers, set alarms, download apps, or keep sticky notes on the fridge—whatever helps you stay consistent.


Fact check: According to Harvard, good health routines can reduce the risk of chronic disease by up to 40%. That’s not a suggestion; that’s a bargain.


Maxim: Guard thy health… lest thy golden years turn into waiting-room marathons



3. Thou Shalt Simplify Thy Finances


Paper statements from 1983? Cute. But clutter isn’t just untidy—it’s risky. Scammers thrive on confusion nearly as much as raccoons love your green bin. Automate what you can, consolidate what you must, and shred the rest.


Remember this fact: how we handle one aspect reflects how we handle everything. If your finances are a chaotic jumble of forgotten accounts and mysterious charges, you’re likely bringing that chaos into other areas of your life. Money can be daunting for many, but don’t make it worse by spreading it across multiple banks, credit cards, and half-finished spreadsheets. We want to engage with our finances, not withdraw from them because of overwhelm.


And let’s be honest—leaving a financial mess for your heirs isn’t just uncool, it’s the opposite of building a legacy. Don’t be the reason your kids fight over who has to sift through shoeboxes of bank statements and expired loyalty cards. Make a pot of coffee, hold your nose, and simplify. If it feels too overwhelming, hire a trusted professional—yes, it’s an investment, but peace of mind pays dividends.


Also, don’t wait. Tomorrow is not guaranteed, and too many people run out of tomorrows before they ever get around to cleaning up their finances.


Here’s a simple formula:


Simple = Automate, Consolidate, Eliminate, Delegate.

(If it doesn’t fit one of those buckets, it’s clutter.)


Fact check: Canadians aged 65 and older lose more than $500 million annually to fraud (Source: RCMP). A streamlined financial life makes you a smaller target.


Maxim: Simplify thy finances… lest ye become the star of Scam-baiters: Seniors Edition.



4. Thou Shalt Build Emotional Resilience


Retirement can be joyful or lonely. The key often lies in how you build your emotional toolkit. Start by finding a “third place” (somewhere outside of home or work): a coffee shop, gym, church, pickleball club, or karaoke night. Bonus points if it includes cake.


But resilience isn’t just about where you go; it’s about what happens in your mind. Your self-talk is the constant soundtrack of your life. If there are many ways to get downtown, there must also be many ways to reframe what just occurred. Did you forget your keys? Maybe it’s an opportunity to practice your steps. Reframing is a vital life skill—it can turn setbacks into stepping stones, boost your confidence, and protect your self-image from unnecessary harm.


Practicing resilience also involves enhancing your self-esteem. Read thinkers like Mel Robbins (famous for the “5 Second Rule”) who promote simple, actionable mindset shifts. Mental health pioneers such as Carl Rogers and Nathaniel Branden highlight self-compassion, strengths-based approaches, and Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) techniques as effective ways to reshape one’s self-image. Even parents and teachers have long recognized that positive reinforcement in childhood helps establish resilient adults. The good news? You can still re-parent yourself today by practicing gentler self-talk and focusing on your strengths.


And remember: loneliness has a cost. According to the U.S. Surgeon General, chronic loneliness is as damaging as smoking 15 cigarettes a day. Emotional resilience isn’t optional—it’s a form of preventative health.


Maxim: Build resilience... or you'll find yourself yelling at the weather forecast all alone.



5. Thou Shalt Know Thy Values


Your values are your North Star. They guide your choices, shape your relationships, and keep you grounded when life gets messy. Forgive quickly, return Tupperware (with cookies, if you’re classy), and keep your promises—especially when caffeine is involved.


As Teddy Roosevelt once said, “If you don’t stand for something, you will fall for everything.” And let’s be honest, falling gets riskier with age. For many of us, values become a cornerstone in later years—a kind of personal compass that points not just to what we do, but who we are.


Passing on a good set of values is one of the greatest legacies you can leave. It’s something to be proud of, but here’s the trick: don’t hand them down like stone tablets from a mountaintop. Instead, offer them like an irresistible invitation—guidelines that inspire, not commandments that suffocate. Leave room for others to adapt, remix, and make them their own. That way, your values live on not as rigid rules, but as living gifts.


Maxim: Know your values... lest you drift like a Costco cart with a broken wheel.



6. Thou Shalt Not Retire Without Purpose


Purpose doesn’t have to mean curing cancer. It could be as simple as baking banana bread that makes your neighbours swoon, mentoring a younger colleague, painting watercolours, or volunteering at the food bank. What matters isn’t the scale—it’s the spark. Without purpose, retirement can feel like a never-ending long weekend, with Monday never arriving. That might sound good for a while, but trust me: eternal Saturdays get old fast.


Here’s why this matters: Studies consistently show that purpose literally adds years to your life. A landmark 2002 Yale University study, led by psychologist Becca Levy, found that people with a positive outlook on aging lived an average of 7.5 years longer than those without. And Dan Buettner, author of The Blue Zones, has documented how centenarians around the globe credit purpose (or ikigai, as the Okinawans call it) as a key factor in their longevity. Purpose isn’t just a nice bonus; it’s a life extender.


Finding your purpose can seem overwhelming, but start by taking small steps. Begin by removing what you don’t want—that’s often the most straightforward way forward. Purpose is also about creating a legacy. It’s not just about how you live, but how you’ll be remembered. You have the power to craft a story that outlives you, whether through relationships, creativity, community impact, or simple acts of kindness.


This is why my personal mantra is: Don’t retire… rewire. Retirement isn’t an ending—it’s your opportunity to craft the most meaningful chapter yet.


Maxim: Have purpose… lest ye binge more shows than Netflix can fund.



7. Thou Shalt Create Joy and Laughter


Adults laugh about four times a day. Kids? Closer to 400. There is something drastically wrong with this statistic. Somewhere between filing taxes and misplacing our bifocals, we’ve lost our bearings—time to take them back. Joy and laughter aren’t luxuries—they’re vital for our survival.

Here’s how to get your daily dose: watch I Love Lucy reruns (Lucy never fails), subscribe to a “joke-a-day” email, or better yet, send a funny joke to a friend or grandchild via text. Join a laughter yoga class, stream a comedy special, or dust off those “dad jokes” that make you roll your eyes. The goal isn’t polished comedy—it’s allowing yourself to be silly.


And don’t overlook this: Laughter is both contagious and magnetic. People (yes, even your relatives) want to be around joy, not another monologue about your lumbago. Laughter is also a clever rebranding tactic. Instead of being “that cranky retiree,” you can update your image to “the one who brings the fun.” Need more on this? Check out my blog: What’s Your Brand, Boomer? Boomer?https://expertfile.com/spotlight/10790 


Maxim: Create joy… lest ye petrify into a cranky old codger.


8. Thou Shalt Always Have Hope on the Calendar


Hope is a date with tomorrow. It’s the promise of Taco Tuesday, a small road trip, or lunch with friends. It doesn’t need to be Paris—unless you’re offering, then yes, Paris (and I’ll pack light).


Here’s why it matters: hope isn’t just feel-good fluff—it’s fuel. Research indicates that hope enhances resilience, reduces stress, and even strengthens the immune system. Viktor Frankl, a psychiatrist and Holocaust survivor, famously noted that prisoners in concentration camps who clung to hope—even a flicker—did better than those who gave up. Hope literally helps us survive, but more importantly, it allows us to thrive.


Your mindset is the driving force behind how you present yourself to the world. A hopeful outlook radiates within you, affecting your energy, healing, and how you handle daily challenges. And here’s the surprise: hope is contagious. Surround yourself with hopeful people, read inspiring stories or books, and intentionally plan activities to look forward to.


Pair it with gratitude—it’s the ideal companion—and you’ll cultivate a daily practice that enhances your mindful well-being. Remember: you have nothing to lose. Being “right” about your ailments, family drama, or the world’s troubles won’t help. But choosing happiness? That just might. I dare you.


Maxim: Always have hope… lest thy days blur into “laundry o’clock.”



9. Thou Shalt Find Thy Person


Everyone needs someone they can call at 8 p.m. who will actually answer (sorry, Siri doesn’t count—and Alexa is a terrible listener). Pick your person, and just as importantly, be theirs too.


This isn’t about being needy — it’s about being human. Decades of research show that strong social connections aren’t just warm fuzzies; they’re lifelines. Harvard’s landmark Study of Adult Development — the longest-running study on happiness — found that close relationships are the single most significant predictor of long-term health and well-being, even more than wealth or fame. Meanwhile, the U.S. National Institute on Aging notes that loneliness is as harmful to physical health as smoking 15 cigarettes a day. Yes, fifteen.


Your support system safeguards both your body and mind, resulting in lower blood pressure, enhanced immune function, sharper cognition, less depression, and a longer life. Friendship acts as preventive medicine.


So don’t overlook this one. Arrange that coffee, send the silly meme, answer the late-night call. Your health relies on it.


Maxim: Find thy person… lest ye end up pouring your heart out to Alexa, Alana or whatever her name is.



10. Thou Shalt Declutter Thy Life


Decluttering isn’t just for closets—it’s for your mind, your finances, and your garage full of “vintage” ski poles that last saw snow in 1987. Think of it as spring cleaning for your soul. Bonus: Swedish Death Cleaning (döstädning, if you want to impress your friends at dinner parties) saves your kids from having to rent a dumpster in your honour. The Guardian popularized this movement, reminding us that downsizing possessions while we’re alive is the ultimate gift to loved ones—practical, compassionate, and oddly liberating.


Here’s the flip side: hoarding—or its younger cousin, “not throwing anything out”—becomes more common as we age. It clutter not only our homes but also our minds, increasing stress, fall risks, and social isolation. The Mayo Clinic notes that hoarding is linked to depression and anxiety, and in older adults, it can seriously impact safety. Awareness is your first defence—don’t become a statistic.


Follow the simple 1 item in, 1 item out” rule. When you bring home a new sweater, let go of an old one. If you buy a fancy gadget, put aside the bread maker that’s been collecting dust since 2002. Respect your space and maintain cleanliness, and you’ll enjoy more clarity, peace, and perhaps even more visits from relatives—who might stay for a cup of tea instead of rushing for the door.


Maxim: Declutter your life... lest you become the star on Hoarders: Golden Years Edition.


The Final Scroll


As my friend Lottie often says, “Looking after yourself is a full-time job.” Authentic—but unlike your old 9-to-5, the boss is fantastic (you), the hours are flexible, and the benefits are, quite literally, life-extending—no HR paperwork needed.


So live it. Share it. Laugh through it. Retirement isn’t about shrinking back — it’s about thriving forward. This is your encore, your second act, your chance to rewrite the script. You’ve got the commandments, the cheat codes, and hopefully, a few good jokes left in your pocket.


Remember: joy, purpose, resilience, health, hope, and laughter aren’t extras—they’re essential. Add them daily like vitamins, and watch the years become richer, not just longer. And if all else fails? Put on some music, dance in your kitchen, and scare the cat or the neighbours if the curtains are open.


Because retirement isn’t the end of the book—it’s the chapter where the hero (that’s you) finally gets to write their own plot twist.



Don’t Retire—Rewire.


Sue


p.s. Want more retirement hacks (and a few laughs)? I share them weekly on my new Substack — with special offers and early invites to upcoming events. You can subscribe here


#RetirementReset #HealthyAging #FinancialWellness #PositiveAging #SecondActSuccess






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Sue Pimento

Sue Pimento

Founder | CEO

Writer, author & presenter focused on financial literacy and retirement strategies. I advocate for the health, wealth & purpose for retirees

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For those of you with a difficult relationships with a parent, a complicated family tree or a family with illness or any form of abuse, my heart is with you. Thank you for even reading this far. I know this is an even more delicate topic and I don't have solutions for you. I do know that the same questions and conversations would apply but perhaps would be better delivered by a neutral 3rd party individual, trusted friend of the family or local pastor. Patience matters here more than almost anywhere else in this series, because older Canadians have earned the right to be stubborn about their front door, and pushing too hard usually only produces more stubbornness in return. What matters is that you talk about what happens if the stairs become a problem, the garden becomes too much, or living alone starts to feel isolating. Sometimes the answer is small: a gardener, a chairlift or safety bars in the bathroom. Sometimes it is a little sneaky with a housekeeper once a week, who conveniently expands to caregiving assistance on additional days. Sometimes it is bigger, such as moving in with a family member or trading the family home for a one-level apartment that does not require a hip replacement just to reach the mailbox. Whatever shape it takes, it works best when the whole family writes that next chapter together rather than one person handing it to the rest. Wishes and Wills The last set of conversations covers what your parents want if they get sick, what they want when they die, and what kind of care setting they would choose if they ever needed one, as well as which community they want to be part of and what matters most when choices become hard. These are not questions you settle in one sitting over coffee. They build slowly, over several conversations, and some of it needs time to sink in before anyone can respond honestly. If a conversation stalls, let it stall. Somewhere in all of this, the subject of a will comes up, and it is worth asking plainly whether one exists, where to find it, whether it is up to date, and whether it is legal. Sometimes parents want to walk you through every detail. Sometimes they would rather keep the specifics to themselves, and that is entirely their right. It is their money, their wishes, their life, and being an adult about it means respecting the boundary even when you are curious. What matters is that the conversation happened at all, not that you know every line of it. There is also a very modern wrinkle to all of this: passwords. A will can name exactly who gets the rocking chair, but it says nothing about who can unlock the phone to find the photos in the first place, or access the email, or access online banking once nobody remembers the password to the password manager. Write down the important logins somewhere real, not just in someone's memory, and tell a person you trust where to find them. I have friends in their fifties and sixties who found a genuinely clever way through all of this. They told their adult kids about their wishes and what was in their wills via a family group text, agreeing to save the real questions for when they were together at the cottage for the family vacation. Nobody had to maintain composure across a formal dinner table. They just laid it out in writing, then filled in the details around campfires and silly card games. Then, at the next big family gathering, actual Post-it notes started appearing on furniture around the house. Someone had written their name on artwork. Someone else claimed the good armchair. What could have been a heavy, tense conversation turned into a full-blown Post-it war, with siblings calling dibs on Grandma’s lamp with the same energy usually reserved for calling shotgun on the front seat. Turns out you can talk about who gets what without anyone needing a box of tissues in the room. Same Family, Different Kind of Love None of this is easy, and none of it should be. If it were simple, someone would have written the manual I was looking for in part one. But easy was never the goal. The goal is to show up for the people who showed up for you, with enough light in the room that nobody has to keep pretending the elephant is not there. Part one was about the everyday chaos, the stuff that makes you laugh even as it drives you slightly insane. This part is about the quieter, harder stuff: the paperwork and the conversations that do not come with a punchline. But it all comes from the same place. Every bit of it, the freezer-burned shrimp and the power of attorney alike, is really just love wearing a very inconvenient disguise. So have the conversations, write things down, and get a real lawyer to make it official. Ask the open questions, then listen to the answers. And when it is done, or as done as these things ever get, go ahead and have dessert first. Life is too short and far too unpredictable to save the best part for last. Warmly, Sue My Book is Available for Pre-Order I hope you will consider pre-ordering a copy of Your Retirement Reset for you, a friend or loved one. It's available September 29, 2026 published by ECW Press - You can now order at Indigo or Amazon. And if you love supporting Canadian booksellers, please also check with your local independent bookstore. Most can easily order it for you.

Parenting Your Parents: When Did I Become the Adult? featured image

8 min

Parenting Your Parents: When Did I Become the Adult?

My mother used to take her cordless phone with her when she went out for lunch. One day I finally asked why. “Well, I might need to make a phone call,” she explained. I said it was a cordless phone, not a cell phone, and that it only worked in her house. She looked at me with a completely blank expression. I tried again. She listened politely, though I’m still not entirely convinced she believed me. Her smile never reached her eyes. Then there were the calls for technical support. Mom would phone because she couldn’t get the television to work, and I would patiently walk her through using the remote. Press the button at the top. Nothing. The red button. I don’t have a red button. Twenty minutes later, it finally occurred to me to ask what she was holding. Her cell phone. We laughed about these things, and they were funny. They still are. But something else was happening that neither of us wanted to acknowledge. Slowly, I was becoming the person who worried about my mother, checked on things, and occasionally told her what she should or shouldn’t do. In other words, I was parenting my parent, though I’m quite sure she would have objected to that job description. This stage of life brings plenty of drama and absolutely no instructions. No pre-retirement class, no baby shower, and, disappointingly, no one arrives with useful equipment. You just wake up one day and realize you are telling the woman who once taught you to cross the street that she might not be safe driving at night. The Driving Dilemma Few conversations test family diplomacy quite like asking a parent whether they should still be driving, and I sometimes wish my MBA program offered a course on it. They will tell you they are excellent drivers. The garbage cans, curbs, garage door and passenger-side mirror may tell a slightly different story. Driving means independence: spontaneous trips to the grocery store, visits with friends, appointments, and the simple freedom to go somewhere without asking anyone. I learned that there is a difference between what makes me nervous or impatient and what is actually unsafe. Getting lost in a familiar neighbourhood, repeatedly hitting things, missing signals, or becoming confused behind the wheel are very different. Canadian Automobile Association (CAA) offers a useful senior driving resource and assessment toolkit that can help older drivers and their families assess driving ability, changing skills, and ways to adapt. I like the idea of introducing objective information into the discussion. It may go over better than announcing that the children have held a meeting and voted Mom or Dad off the highway. Technology: Funny Until It Wasn’t Technology gave my mother and I some of our funniest moments. The cordless phone going to lunch and the cell phone masquerading as the television remote were classics. Often, my first instinct was to grab the device causing the problem and fix it myself. That solved the problem quickly, but it didn’t help her the next time. Writing down a few steps, simplifying them, and repeating them, sometimes many times, worked better. A checklist taped beside the television could save both of us a lot of grief. Confusion about phones, email, texting and social media could leave her vulnerable to fraud, too. Today’s scams are sophisticated enough that none of us should be too smug about spotting them. I tried to establish a simple habit with Mom: if something looks strange, urgent, frightening or too good to be true, stop and check with someone before clicking, paying or sharing information. I wanted Mom to enjoy technology and stay connected, not be afraid of it. The trick was adding a few guardrails without wrapping the entire Internet in yellow caution tape. The Great Grocery Store Standoff I am a bit of a health nut, which made counselling my mother about nutrition particularly ironic, since I come by it honestly. Mom was the original health-food nut. We called her the wheat-germ fanatic. Wheat germ came onto the scene in the 70s, and as far as Mom was concerned, there was no food that couldn’t be improved with a generous helping. There were four of us kids, and we tolerated a lot in the name of good health, but we finally drew the line when the spaghetti sauce became so chewy from wheat germ that we couldn’t eat it. Then there was powdered milk. We didn’t always have a blender, so it didn’t mix particularly well. We called it clumpy milk. Fast-forward a few decades, and there I was, the daughter of the wheat germ fanatic, lecturing my mother on fruits, vegetables, protein and regular meals. She had her own standards too. Anyone caught buttering bread in her kitchen got a quick lesson in technique, right to the crust, she would say, watching closely until you got every corner. Mom understood healthy eating just fine. What had changed was her ability to manage it, and keeping food safe had become harder. Her freezer became so full that she eventually secured the door with bungee cords. Bungee cords have many legitimate uses, but appliance repair isn’t one of them. The door sometimes didn’t close properly, and food would spoil. Mom periodically complained about what she called her “morning flu,” and I began to wonder whether it had less to do with a virus and more to do with whatever archaeological specimen she had defrosted for dinner. The comedy had a serious side too. Health Canada’s food-safety guidance for adults 60 and over explains that older adults may be more vulnerable to serious complications from foodborne illness and offers practical advice on storage, leftovers and safer food choices (Health Canada, 2025). It also notes that you can’t always tell whether food is safe by its look, smell or taste. Mom’s standard was somewhat simpler: “It looks fine.” She also loved giving food away. I would leave her house carrying freezer-burned shrimp, a grey object that may once have been beef, and mystery packages from an unknown decade. Eventually, I told my brothers to stop arguing and accept everything Mom offered. Smile, say thank you, and take it home. What happened between her front door and our dinner plates was our business. I didn’t have to win every argument. Sometimes a workaround did more than another lecture and helped Mom keep some control over her own life. Then There Was Dad My dad presented a different set of challenges. He had a stroke at 66 that left him with no mobility on his left side and very limited speech. His understanding was fine, but getting words out was difficult. However, there were two words he could say particularly well: “beer” and “Susie.” I’m not sure what it says about me that I made the shortlist, but I’ve always taken it as a compliment. Communication could be frustrating for both of us because Dad knew exactly what he wanted to say, even when he couldn’t express it. He liked wearing the same clothes repeatedly, sometimes long after the stains on the front suggested it was time to change. Telling your father that he needs a clean shirt or a bath requires a particular kind of diplomacy that even graduate school does not teach. Helping the man who once looked after you with something as personal as bathing is strange and tender in equal measure. You want to protect his dignity, but you also can’t pretend hygiene doesn’t matter. I found it worked better when I didn’t turn it into a debate. I could make it part of the day, help where he needed it, and move on. It wasn’t always graceful. Sometimes he was annoyed. Sometimes I was. We figured it out, and his toenails were trimmed. Dad also developed a dessert philosophy I have never been able to disprove. He insisted on eating dessert first. When I suggested he might want to eat his dinner before dessert, his reasoning was simple: “Well, I can’t be sure I’ll make it to dessert, so I’m going to eat it first.” Fair enough, Dad. Have the pie. When the Funny Stuff Stops Being Funny This is the uncomfortable part of parenting your parents. One forgotten lunch may mean nothing. Regularly forgetting to eat is different. One confused encounter with a television remote is hilarious. Increasing confusion across several areas of daily life deserves attention. I found it more useful to look for patterns than to panic over every incident. With Mom, we tried using checklists on the fridge and Meals on Wheels. Then I would arrive to find six or seven meals sitting uneaten in the refrigerator, starting to spoil. Getting help didn’t mean I could stop paying attention. We had solved one problem, but not necessarily the whole problem. It helps to know you are not the only family trying to figure this out. It is easy to assume that if Mom or Dad won’t listen to our brilliant advice, we must be doing something wrong. Our parents are still adults. They don’t suddenly become compliant just because they reach a certain age. I had to learn when to push, when to seek help, when to quietly remove the questionable shrimp, and, perhaps hardest of all, when to keep my mouth shut. I Would Take It All Back Both of my parents are gone now, and time has reshaped how I remember those years. There were days when I was exasperated and frustrated, sometimes to tears. I worried. We argued. I wondered why they wouldn’t listen and whether I was helping or simply making everyone miserable. Watching the people you love lose pieces of their independence is hard, and trying to help without taking over can be even harder. Now I would give almost anything to have some of those moments back. I’d happily explain the television remote again. I’d take another package of freezer-burned shrimp without complaint. I’d negotiate another bath with Dad, let him wear the questionable shirt for one more day, and watch him eat his dessert first. If you are in the middle of parenting your own parents, I don’t have a perfect formula for you. Pay attention when something feels different, protect their safety without forgetting their dignity, and pick the battles that really matter enough to let the rest go. And laugh with them whenever you can, because some of this really is funny, even when it is also difficult and sad. At the time, I often thought I was dealing with problems that needed fixing. Looking back, I can see something else, too. Those frustrating, ridiculous, worrying little moments were also time spent with my mom and dad. I didn’t know how much I would miss them until there were no more remotes to explain, desserts to debate, or mystery packages to remove from the freezer. I’d take the whole messy job back in a heartbeat. Even the clumpy milk. Warmly,  Sue This is Part 1. I have a Part 2 that covers what nobody wants to talk about at dinner: who gets power of attorney, how you divide the work with siblings without a family blow-up, whether Mom or Dad should stay in their own home, and what all of this does to the person doing the parenting. I promise there is less shrimp in that one. My Book is Available for Pre-Order I hope you will consider pre-ordering a copy of Your Retirement Reset for you, a friend or loved one. It's available September 29, 2026 published by ECW Press - You can now order at Indigo or Amazon. And if you love supporting Canadian booksellers, please also check with your local independent bookstore. Most can easily order it for you.

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